A Night Encounter
by lilkawa
Summary: Elizabeth runs into Darcy during Jane and Elizabeth's stay at Netherfield


_Pride and Prejudice_ doesn't belong to me

**A Night Encounter**

Elizabeth Bennet awoke with a pain in her neck. She wasn't supposed to have fallen asleep; the last thing she remembered was wiping her sister's forehead with a wet cloth. Luckily, the candles were still burning which meant that she hadn't been asleep for that long.

She looked at Jane who was sleeping peacefully; her breathing was normal and her forehead was not as hot as it had been a few hours earlier. Jane was on the mend; hopefully they would be able to leave Netherfield soon, tomorrow maybe. She couldn't wait to get back home to Longbourn.

Elizabeth had had to suffer through dinner with the Bingleys, Mr. Hurst and Mr. Darcy and she didn't want to go through another one. She had been surprised when after dinner Mr. Darcy had approached her and asked her to dance. Obviously he had been laughing at her, why else would he a man who disliked dancing and who moreover had refused to dance with her before, ask her to dance now? Luckily she had been able to say no and offer some witty remark; although somehow, foolishly, she had been tempted to say yes.

There was something about Mr. Darcy that made her want her to make out his character. And it wasn't because he had called her tolerable, she told herself, certainly not because he had refused to dance with her. It was something else and she was determined to find out what.

Elizabeth could admit to herself, especially at night when there was no one to see her, that she wanted to understand what made Mr. Darcy think that he was better than everybody else. It couldn't be because of the money, Mr. Bingley was rich as well; obviously not as rich as Mr. Darcy but still rich. He was a gentleman but then so was her father and many men in the area, so it couldn't be about rank. There was no doubt about his beauty, he was a handsome man with a face that anyone would give a second glance but so was Mr. Bingley, whose features were more open and therefore more easily pleasing. And it couldn't be his manners which were brisk and off-putting.

What was it about Mr. Darcy that made him occupy her thoughts so? Honestly, and this she could admit to herself, she was becoming quite obsessed with him.

She smiled unconsciously as she remembered some of the conversations they'd engaged in. They had been quite entertaining and although they had been …arguing most of the time, with him trying to lord it over them, Elizabeth had enjoyed them. In fact she quite looked forward to annoying him with some remark or other.

Maybe that was it, maybe Mr. Darcy was proud because he was cleverer than most of the people in the neighbourhood. No, Elizabeth shook her head, she would not justify his pride, but maybe she could understand her obsession with him. She was obviously drawn to because she had found someone she could talk to like that who wasn't her father.

No, her mind protested, she wasn't drawn to him, she just wanted to understand him that was all and she wasn't obsessed with him, although she thought about him a great deal.

"Lizzie."

Jane's voice pulled her of her reverie, and went and sat beside her sister. "How are you feeling?" she asked her.

"A bit thirsty," Jane replied. "I could do with some water."

"Of course."

Elizabeth looked to the dresser where the maid, Rose, had put the jug and cup and remembered belatedly that Jane had long since finished drinking the water in that jug and that Rose had promised to bring another one. Obviously the girl must have forgotten or else been too busy doing her other duties.

"I'll go the kitchen and get you some water," Elizabeth said.

"No," Jane protested immediately.

"I have intimate knowledge of that room," Elizabeth assured her, and she did having gone there earlier to see about Jane's food, "and it's better than waking the whole house up to get you some water."

She doubted that Mrs. Thatcher, Mr. Bingley's housekeeper, would mind, and she also didn't think she would run into any of the household members at this time of night. Well, she hoped that if she did run into anyone it would be Mrs. Thatcher or one of her staff and not the Bingleys, the Hursts or Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth picked up a candle, she was glad to see an abundance of extra candles in one of the drawers, and made her way to the kitchen. She would pass by Mr. Bingley's library and pick up a book to read; she didn't think he would mind very much.

000

Mr. Darcy was in the library reading. He had brought with him some books from London about a new technique in horse breeding which he was thinking about trying out at Pemberley. Since coming to stay with Bingley at Netherfield, Darcy had taken to working in the study at night, he had found that he couldn't sleep much anyway and somehow he couldn't get anything done during the day with the activities – visiting neighbours, shooting birds and the like – that Bingley had him involved in.

He tried to convince himself that the fact that Elizabeth Bennet was currently residing at Netherfield had nothing to do with his lack of sleep but failed. He remembered how well she had looked when she had first arrived in the sitting room, in spite of her dirty petticoat and muddy shoes. Her eyes had been bright and the exercise had added a becoming colour to her cheeks.

And her manner and conversation that evening, Darcy had found himself suggesting that they dance. He couldn't believe he had asked her to dance and how disappointed he had felt when she refused. When he had reread his letter to Georgiana and found four paragraphs about Elizabeth he had given up writing the letter although he knew that he would certainly tell his sister about Elizabeth Bennet.

There was something about Elizabeth Bennet. Something that was drawing him to her.

A noise got him of his reverie.

He looked up and saw Elizabeth Bennet standing in the doorway, with a jug of water in her hands. He stood up and walked to the door.

"Mr. Darcy," she curtseyed. "I didn't mind to interrupt you."

"You didn't," he replied.

"You haven't been to bed," she told him, looking at his clothes. He was still dressed in the same clothes he'd been wearing to dinner.

"Neither have you, it would seem," Darcy told her.

"I fell asleep tending to Jane," Elizabeth told him, "and…uhm woke up when she asked for water."

"How is Miss Bennet?"

"She's fine," Elizabeth said, "that is she'll be fine and on her feet soon."

"Good."

They stood in silence staring at each other and they both seemed to remember where they were.

"I need to get this water to my …" Elizabeth began only to be interrupted by Darcy's, "Let me finish up my…"

"Goodnight Mr. Darcy."

He watched her make her way up the stairs to her room and went back to the desk and stared at the book that he had been reading. He wasn't going to get any more work done tonight so he might as well go to bed and get some rest. Bingley probably had made many plans for the day none of which included sleeping in.

As he drifted off to sleep Darcy thought to himself how pleasant it was that Elizabeth had been the last he'd seen before he slept. He certainly could get used to it.

000


End file.
